


glimpses of blue

by lordbhreanna



Category: Biohazard | Resident Evil (Gameverse)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Introspection, Nicholai's POV, One-Sided Attraction, Resident Evil 3 Remake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-11
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:08:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24130351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lordbhreanna/pseuds/lordbhreanna
Summary: “And what are you? U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people?” she yelled back at him, every word out of her mouth said with contempt, as if he had committed a great transgression.No one dared to confront him face to face—especially not young girls. With steel and defiance in her blazing blue eyes, she had.
Relationships: Nicholai Ginovaef | Nikolai Zinoviev/Jill Valentine
Comments: 8
Kudos: 31





	glimpses of blue

**Author's Note:**

> One more Tumblr prompt filled! 
> 
> **Prompt sent by Eve Sparda:** "¡Holiii! Pues mira, se me ha ocurrido un POV de Nicholai justo cuando se la encuentra al disparar a Murphy. En plan qué piensa de ella, lo que piensa en ese momento y qué le pasa por la cabeza durante su conversación y al marcharse. Mucho "dios, qué guapa es, actúa guay" y así xD ¡Gracias!"
> 
> (Prompt asked for Nicholai’s point of view during the garage scene and him being a bit awestruck by Jill.)

“What the fuck!”

Sat down on his haunches, Nicholai tilted his head and stared at the kid’s body lying dead on his side, eyes blank and skin beaded with sweat and blood. He didn’t look up when he heard the young woman and instead took an inquisitive peek at Murphy’s injuries—he was thorough in his job if nothing else. That half-brained idiot had been one of the last surviving members in the ambush, surpassing Nicholai's expectations. He'd give the kid that. Nicholai would have preferred to observe the infection development before putting a bullet between his eyes, but the moment he had seen the chain he had used to bolt the door cut in half, Nicholai had known there was an intruder in his little field experiment.

And Murphy could still talk. The boy had been stupid enough not to suspect the trap, yet Nicholai was not about to take the chance he might slip and reveal something inconvenient. 

“He was infected,” he stated, shrugging it off. 

“He might have been infected,” she piped, indignation seeping into her voice.

That was the moment he stood up and finally came face to face with her. For a passing moment, he was almost taken aback at seeing Jill Valentine in front of him. He had already watched her hours before, as the unidentified bioweapon had pursued her and the other S.T.A.R.S. member. It had been a glimpse of blue in the city’s chaos, enough to recognize her. Now he hadn’t expected her to be the intruder, having paid no attention to who was next to Murphy as he shot him down. This felt like a turnaround.

The picture he had seen on the file before the start of the mission was one of an immature little girl playing dress-up as a soldier. Too young, too thin, too soft, too scared even when staring at the camera. Now she looked quite different, under the flickering light of the garage and the green hue from the neon sign. Caked in dirt, skin scratched and covered in trails of fresh and dry blood; likely her own and the monsters’ blood. But her blue gaze was made of steel and lit with something close to fury. Oh, she was very angry at him for shooting the boy, it seemed.

It took him a second to realise he was thinking it—that she looked, _was_ beautiful. Hauntingly so, blue burning his sight. 

He disregarded the thought in an instant and tisked at her dismissively. 

“Are all S.T.A.R.S. this soft? No wonder so many of you are dead.”

He trailed to the flight of stairs as he spoke, breaking eye contact. As much as she could be trouble, she was still a child playing soldier on the streets, and losing precious time feeling pity for a stupid dead imbecile like Murphy. He had business to attend to. The throw-away about her dead teammates was just a pinch of salt over her useless sensitivity. That would shut her up, he thought.

Except it didn’t.

“And what are you? U.B.C.S.? Killing your own people?” she yelled back at him, every word out of her mouth said with contempt, as if he had committed a great transgression.

And, for the shortest beat, he was almost frozen on the spot, halfway up through the stairs. Shocked would have been an appropriate word, even if he despised being the one to receive its effects. People rarely shot back at him, both metaphorically and literally. He knew how to make everyone hate his guts when it suited him; he enjoyed it, the sense of wariness and fear he could instill in others. 

No one dared to confront him face to face—especially not young girls. With steel and defiance in her blazing blue eyes, she had. It made him stop on his tracks. It made him recoil, trace his steps back to her. He huffed, in exasperation and annoyance. Nicholai walked too close to her, until he loomed and she was forced to stare up at him. His brow was knitted together in a deep frown.

“He would have turned,” he sneered, disdainful, feeling some unnamed violent and irritating thing growing inside his chest. “Where is your sense of self-preservation?”

If she was smart, she'd infer his underhanded advice. Nicholai didn't offer those freely; he didn't care if she would follow it, but her insolence merited that at least. This time she didn’t raise her voice, and didn't offer any reply. She simply held his piercing gaze, unafraid but charged nonetheless. It lasted a heartbeat and, despite that, the thought crawled into his mind again—she looked beautiful, with her daring, steady eyes fixed on him, their electric blue like nothing he had ever experienced before.

Somehow, another thought followed. He liked it, how she glared at him; the fleeting idea completely discarded the moment he pulled out and turned his back to her, stepping up the stairs. 

“Go back to the subway station. We don’t need a bleeding heart like you getting in the way.”

 _In my way_ , he added to himself as he opened the door and walked out to the alley.

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this, I highly recommend you check [folkloare](https://archiveofourown.org/users/folkloare/pseuds/folkloare)'s [One Upon a Nightmare](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24021715/chapters/57793294) because it's a wonderfully written vignette about this scene, but from Jill's point of view!


End file.
